Imperfect Mothering

JANUARY 1, 2019 / RACHEL / EDIT

For whatever reason I couldn’t fall asleep a couple nights ago and instead my brain wanted to remind me of all the ways I haven’t been a good mother over the years. No matter how hard I tried to push the memories back more kept flooding in.

I don’t know why. I was simply trying to remember a house I lived in when my son was a baby. But instead I was reminded of all my failures.

I have been a far from perfect parent. I’ve made plenty of mistakes. I’m trying my best but the truth is it might not be good enough.

I look back and I remember being so exhausted and touched out that I sometimes had to let my babies cry it out while I cried it out in the next room. I let people into our lives that were toxic and had no business in our lives. There were times when I honestly had no idea what I was doing but I was doing my best. My children have gone too long between baths sometimes. I was a heavy sleeper and a single parent most of the time when my kids were all babies, I was always so worried that I wouldn’t wake at night when they were crying.

I overreacted when I should have just taken a breath. I ruined Christmas one year when I was up wrapping presents until 4am and my kids woke up at 6am and didn’t wake me up and just tore into presents. I was heartbroken…. I was also really depressed and stressed at the time so my reaction was much worse I think. I yelled at them and cried. It’s hard to look back on now and find any humor because I seriously lost my shit that day. The day went on, we played with their new toys, went and visited family and had a nice Christmas dinner. But all I can really remember is my kids faces when I yelled at them on Christmas morning for opening presents without me.

I was often made to believe that everything that was going on was a direct result of my parenting. It was my fault. As a result my children went far longer than they should have before being properly diagnosed with ADHD and Autism. I wrongly believed that my son’s ADHD and outbursts were because I was in some way screwing him up. That’s what people told me anyway. My daughter’s autism was hard too because our pediatrician said “no way” and made me feel like I was crazy. Everyone was in such denial that there was anything different that it took years to get the diagnosis she needed, because I didn’t listen to my instincts.

I listened to the wrong advice.
I was too stern and I was also too soft.
Which means I was also inconsistent.
I was so damn imperfect.

Not my favorite kind of reminiscing at all.

Maybe I need to work on forgiving myself.